


Sons of Fury

by KillerGirlFuria



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Adoption, Angharad Lives, Angst-Go-Fuck-Yourself, CRAPPY Grammar, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fuck Valhalla, Gen, Mentions of Rape, Nux Lives, Post-Rape Recovery, Slit Lives, Tons of Fluffy Fluff, and her adopted War Boys, don't pick on her boys, don't piss Furiosa off, healthy!Nux, mommy!Furiosa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4566204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillerGirlFuria/pseuds/KillerGirlFuria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Furiosa had spent half of her life on the road and the other half in garages, with War Boys. It was only matter of time, other boys said, that some pups would cling to her forever, desperate for the littlest glimpses of kindness. They were right.</p><p>Nux and Slit. Her boys. Her sons.</p><p>---</p><p>Fuck Valhalla.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello world, here I come! And let's hope I can bring this idea to life. I just love Nux the Cinnamon Roll and Slit the Lizard King and I can't stand them die. And Furiosa is just mama bear you don't wanna piss off.
> 
> Inspired partially by this Tumblr post: http://mmfrconfessions.tumblr.com/post/126217286134/there-really-needs-to-be-more-war-rig-family-aus

Imperator Furiosa was known among War Boys as someone worthy of her title and place in Valhalla even before she has lost her arm, which happened in a battle, hundreds of days ago. Mostly because she, unlike other Imperators, kept spending her free time in Garages and Pits, with War Boys, learning them, becoming like them. There was no other Imperator they could talk so freely to, using all those friendly insults, like to one of them. She was stronger than them, but showed it only when needed, or when somebody pissed her off, mainly focusing on helping and learning. Because Furiosa knew better and never, ever stopped learning.

She spent half of her life on road, driving most various rigs in most various directions with most various crew and purpose. The other half she had spent in Garages, tending to the rigs, making them even better, working her stabile position among the Boys, sometimes goofing around with pups when she was in more playful mood, sometimes beating the shit out of Boys if she was more pissed off. Some of the Pups kept on following her sometimes, but they changed, ones stopped, others started. Some of War Boys kept joking than she will gain permanent little followers if she keeps up doing what she doing, but Furiosa always shrugged them off.

Of course, they’d been right.

It happened shortly after some huge, epic battle she had lost her hand in, still unused to living with only her right, but already used to the feeling of emptiness by her left. She was still young and healthy, and the Organic Mechanic said it’s just a matter of time she’d been fully available again, and that she should consider getting mechanical arm. She was just on her way back from a person that did this sort of thing, told to wait, heading to the Garage when she stumbled upon three grown War Boys picking on two little War Pups. Which was strange to begin with, because War Boys were usually like older brother figure to Pups. But then again, usually. And Furiosa hated picking on the weak.

She was alone, weakened, still hurt and unused to fighting with one hand only and they were three, grown up and fit. But she was pissed off and fierce, and in the end they were running – actually, really running – away from her. Pups were both scared and amazed – two small, young, sickly thin boys painted with sickly white clay. She told them to watch out and dismissed them. Nothing seemed out of order back then.

Next day she noticed the two pups she saved among those who kept following her around. And another day, and another. Day after day. Pups came and went by, new faces replacing old almost all the time. Except for the two. By thirtieth day, one of them starting painting his head like she did. By hundredth day she received mechanical arm. Mu twentieth day they were still following her.

By twentieth-first day she decided to talk to them, amazed by their stubbornness. They were very shy at first, and flattered, and somewhat scared that maybe they did something wrong. But they didn’t, and Furiosa weren’t there to punish them. Just to talk, curious.

They already had names. The smaller, more sickly-looking one was Nux, and the one who started painting his head like she did was Slit.

Nux and Slit. Fitting names, she thought.

From then on they didn’t only keep following her around, but also started asking questions, about literally everything. Once it was about engines, once about the Fury Road, once about Immortan Joe, sometimes just to hear some made-up story. Furiosa was good at making up stories. And even better at telling about her adventures.

She was also good at hating Joe. It wasn’t that she was openly cursing them before boys, but she didn’t talk about him in superlatives and tent to say a bad word or two. That was why Nux and Slit were growing up partially free from his false godhood, being careful around, unlike other War Boys that worshiped Joe without second thought.

If one was to name their role model, only one name would be mentioned. Furiosa, their childhood hero. And also, more of a parent than Joe would ever be to anyone. They kept following her almost everywhere when she was in Citadel, and she wasn’t bothered by it at all. Other Imperators kept joking that she found herself pets, and she only answered them with ‘You didn’t let me have a dingo’ each time. She was careful, maybe even a bit over-careful, when it came to showing affection to the boys. To her boys. Because it was long since they became hers. In the public, she just let them follow her, maybe occasionally playfully smack or allow to sit on her lap for a bit, things that War Boys did, too. But once they were alone, when Joe and Imperators were gone, she’d take them to her room, lay on bed with one boy on each side and read to them. Or tell stories. Beautiful stories of beautiful place – of the Green Place.

Of her home.

They’re the first ones to hear about it, when they’re not pups anymore, but not really War Boys yet.

When their tumors show up, she’s silently scared, but it turns out to be not really that harmful at all, like those few lucky cases. When Nux has V8 engine carved on his chest and skull teeth on his lips, and Slit gets some fancy scars on his spine, she’s practically radiating with pride. Because those are her boys. When they build their own vehicle with only as much as small words of advice and bird skull from her, when Nux, genius Repair Boy, becomes Black Thumb, when Slit exceeds at lancers training. When they left fot their first Fury Road ride, she was so worried she almost went with them. But she trusted they’ll be back, and they were. Slit with his mouth cut in grotesque extension of a smile, but they were back, alive, victorious. She was like a marble then, cold, emotionless when they returned. Once they were alone, she even went as far as singing for them and, boy, she sang good.

All of these little things, little victories she savors. Because it’s what was done by her boys, not Joe’s. Her Nux and her Slit. Ones she trusted, ones that from then on always aided her when she was raiding for either gas or bullets. Ones, that, unlike everything else, never betrayed her.

Her War Boys. Her sons.

But then she became protector of Joe’s most precious Breeders. Uneasy at first, she came to pity the women from the bottom of her heart. She told them about the Green Place once… and they wanted to go so bad, maybe not really to there, but somewhere that wasn’t with Joe, as his property.

However stupid or insane that wasn’t, she agreed.

It sounded like hope.


	2. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She preferred Buzzards, if she had a say.

She told them nothing. Not a word, a sign about what’s happening.

She did act a bit too suspiciously, though, for her taste. In a normal runshe would get them, as always, to ride in a rig before her. No. This time, she had requested them on her War Rig, from where they could get into the cab within seconds after she called. And she would call, she knew. If not for the Buzzards, then Joe would most likely send a war party behind them.

What was she even thinking? Joe would send a whole party after them.

She just hoped that he wouldn’t figure it out that soon.

She preferred Buzzards, if she had a say.

It startedlong before morning, in the middle of the night. She went into the vault first. Awaken them, lead them out. She had it planned, but she told them nothing. She told no one, made arrangements on her own. Everything she done herself, making sure it will be perfect. Maybe not for them – it’s their choice, the escape. But she has others, who’d step into the tram unknowingly, whom she must ensure safety, no matter the costs.

Furiosadidn’t sleep that night, already feeling some adrenaline coursing through her veins. It’s bad. Her mind should stay clean, and yet she feels that thrill, like a kid. Like some stupid, inexperienced kid. She must dim it, fast, before she goes for her boys, because they know her almost as well she knows herself, and they will know that there’s something else going on. She can’t let that happen – not yet anyway. She will tell them, she promises herself, but once they’re more or less safe from Joe’s grip. And for now, they’re still in the Citadel.

Once she reaches the bunks and finds Nux and Slit still asleep on their uncomfortably hard, shared space she feels almost guilty for waking them up. Slit has been suffering from night fevers for last two weeks and only recently had theypassed; it’s Furiosa that has to break one of those few moments of idle rest. Because no one else’s was awake, she allows herself to show a little tenderness, a bit of the soft touch they were taught to despise but they still cling to.

“Boys, wake up” she whispers, her voice warm and so different from the usual, raspy when she barks out orders. She places her hand on Nux’ shoulder and shakes him gently, shaking Slit, entangled with his driver, in the process. Bunks tend to get really cold in the process, and it was weirder to find driver and lancer sleeping separately than huddled together, to be honest.

“Mhm…” Nux winced, yawning a little and slowly opening his too big, too bright and too innocent eyes for a suicidal maniac. “Mom?” he purred quietly, allowing himself to use that word carefully. Slit shifted behind him, nuzzling into crook of his neck where Larry and Barry – Nux’ tumors –were. But the boy remained cheerful, going as far as to name them and even having Slit draw happy faces on them. His optimism truly amazed Furiosa, and inspired her to keep going. As much as she was hero for them, they were heroes for her.

“Is it morning already?” Slit grunted, grumpy as ever. Imperator lady honestly had no idea when, besides when he was a pup, she saw him not grumpy. But she didn’t care, for he was hers, too.

“Yes, so wake up, you lazy asses” Furiosa said, now louder, for passing War Boy to hear. “You’re not going soft, are you?”

“Never!” they both said – lied, maybe – in union, hurrying from the bunk.

“So up and get your clay on. I don’t want you fried today” she barks, waving her good hand at them. Both boys smile – one innocent smile, and one crooked with scars but still as lovely as ever – and hurry outside the bunk to get ready. Furiosa had shared a bit of secret that they will do something special today, and she needs them in best shape they can be. Of course, they happily obeyed, bickering back and forth between themselves as they usually did.

When time of Joe’s speech came over, she got nervous, banging fingers of her flesh hand on wheel she held. She painted her forehead with grease a while back and now sat at driver’s seat, placing the wheel where it should be. She heard Joe’s blabbering about things she didn’t care, and she hadn’t really listened. Only when her name was mentioned. She was almost proud of herself; her hatred for the false god was as vibrant as ever and he still knew nothing of it. Or ignored it, but Furiosa liked to think that he simply doesn’t know, with how he trusted her.

She never liked how he treated the Wretched. How he allowed them to have very little water every once in a while and then kept blabbering about not getting addicted to water. Furiosa knew that human beings have been addicted to water since its birth. Water was main source of life and they could never survive without it.

She subtlety rolled her eyes at Joe’s theatrical display of power. At the sight of Nux’s and Slit’s reflection in the mirror, climbing atop the rig, she launched it into actions.  The engines roared to life, the sound of it purring loudly beneath her feet.  The hum of the machine washed over her like a cool breeze on a hot day, settling her nerves. It’s a sound that’s familiar and comforting, as anything could be in this hellish world; it was the sound of freedom and the promise of the Green Place well beyond Joe’s reach. Road, hot wind. Furiosa inhaled deeply, gripping the wheel a bit too tightly. Today she was to overuse this freedom just too much, she knew it. And she either succeeded – they succeeded – or they were as good as dead.

About half an hour down the road, she finally turned left, astray from the road. Her escorts, of course, trailed after her. There was something on the roof of cabin and soon Slit’s face appeared in the window.

“We’re not going to Gas Town?” he asked, and she shook his head. “Bullet Farm?”

“We’re going East” she answered.

“I’ll pass it down” Slit said, turning around, but Furiosa gripped material he had around his neck, stopping him.

“Soon I will want you and Nux in the cab with me. I’ll tell you when,” she said, and boy only nodded.

“We’re going forward!” he yelled, climbing back onto the cargo. “New orders, slog ahead! It’s not a supply run!”

“Slit, what’s going on?” War Boy from the car that rode first asked as they passed.

“New orders, we’re heading east!” Slit exclaimed.

“Why?” he demanded.

“I dunno, that’s the order!” he answered, and then turned to Nux, to whisper: “Mom wants us on in the cab soon. She’ll tell us.”

Furiosa sighed, gripping the wheel a bit more. Now, the fun was to start.

There was no more turning back.


	3. The War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silence was his only answer as they speed up towards the storm.

She knew it was reckless. Maybe even stupid. And maybe that was exactly why she did it. Why she agreed for this plan, and why she actually drove astray from the road. Right into Buzzard territory. If she was to be honest, she actually preferred Buzzards than War Party.

If she was realistic, she knew she’ll get both.

Although as for now, the first few, short hours into the travel, it went very calmly. Furiosa cherished the calmness, but she also stood vigilant, scanning the horizon as if expecting Buzzards to be hiding behind any kind of obstacle that kept her from seeing. And it was good, honestly. She would spot them in time, because she had no doubts that they would attack, sooner or later. And she really hoped it would be later. Still, she kept on being careful.

Something banged on the roof of the cab, and she heard someone calling her name. Slit, again. She sighed, opening the little vent in her roof for better hearing.

“There are vehicles from the Citadel! They fired flares! Calling reinforcements from Gas Town and Bullet Farm!” he said loudly, visibly excited. “Backup? Decoy?”

“Detour,” she answered. She thought that spiked car glimpsed in the corner of her eye.

Furiosa knew they would notice. She was certain they – he – would, after what she’s done. She just didn’t expect it to happen so soon. And having both Buzzards and War Parties on her tail, it was no fun. Or was it? Furiosa felt a rush of adrenaline at the prospect. She knew, though, that today completely wasn’t her lucky day.

“Eyes right!” she yelled as soon as she saw sand and dust moving up the was wind couldn’t move them. She heard Slit bark out some kind of happy sound before he yelled:

“Buzzards! Buzzards right! Eyes on!” followed by more yelling. Slit was happy, she could tell. She had stored quite a lot of lances for him after all. She heard others yelling, to notify those who hadn’t noticed yet. It wasn’t long before a white face with scarred lips appeared in the window.

“Should we turn around and get to out backup?” Nux asked.

“No, we’re good” Furiosa answered. “We fang it!” her metal arm wandered to the rope spread just above the door, pulling it down twice. War Rig roared aloud, sounding the horn of war as she drove. They could take on Buzzards just fine on their own. She hoped. She gasped as the car that drove first got into a trap and maneuvered just in time, shaking the rig. Nux gripped her metal arm to prevent himself from falling, but other than that, he was fine.

Slit yelled, some kind of war cry and threw the lance at nearest spiked car. One well-aimed shot and its defenses were nonexistent. Second shot, and it exploded, twirling in the air as grotesque mixture of flames, metal, glass and human flesh. Even if he wasn’t on their cab with Nux driving, this was just as good, because Slit loved destroying things.

The next Buzzards’ car, the one that went for rig’s wheels, went down in three shots. And he was done with right side of the rig, jumping swiftly to the left. Yes, he could definitely go on like that.

“Ready!” Nux yelled, seeing one of the cars that went for wheels of the left side of rig, gripping small canon-like gun. Furiosa pushed the gas pedal down, pulled out her mini crossbow and lunged forward, opening the door. The boy shot first, taking down most of car’s defenses, and she, seconds later, finishing it off with explosive bolt. The car jerked up, hitting the one that was behind with whole impact of explosion. She thought she heard Slit’s disappointed ‘hey’ for a moment.

That was not the end. At first, she heard roar from behind curtain of dust. And then, her side mirror showed her an image she certainly did not want to see – spiked digger, heavy-armed vehicle. Furiosa only cursed under her breath. Hearing the drums too close, becoming louder and louder too fast, she actually cursed aloud. The War Party was getting near.

She knew some faster vehicles reached her already. She was just glad that they would take Buzzards off her back first. But apparently, something happened on top of the rig, too, because Nux suddenly jerked up, moved by something, gripping the frame and hissing though his teeth: ‘you can do it, come on!’

And then she knew what was happening. Especially after Nux yelled loud ‘WITNESS’; one of War Boys from the rig – some boy she didn’t really know, Slit called his name, calling him also a mediocre – died. Furiosa was glad that Ace and Morsov, other War Boys she liked, ones that usually went on rides with her, stayed in the Citadel. Ace was recovering from recent injury and Morsov was repairing their car. They wouldn’t go even with War Party.

She hoped.

She had little knowledge of their peculiar suicide rituals and spiked Buzzards’ digger almost by the cab, so she couldn’t care that much. Instead, she pulled the rope again, and War Rig howled twice, a long war cry of unyielding will and hard fight. Nux went to the back, onto the cistern, to try and take the digger down. Furiosa looked through the window at foreign vehicle she did not recognize, and at the man bound to its front. Some sickly War Boy got hooked up to the ‘blood bag’ but refused to stay in the Citadel during the chase. So typical.

She almost didn’t hear metal plate in the floor moving, and Angharad’s yell was unexpected.

“We can’t breathe down there!” blonde yelled, and Furiosa spotted a saw in the corner of her eye. They wanted to cut through the rig, not good.

“Stay outta sight! Now!” Imperator yelled as the saw meet shell of the cab, letting out a loud screech and thousands of sparks. She hissed, moving as far from it as possible, still driving. She barely heard through the screech that metal cutting metal made; she barely saw anything through the sparks, but she knew that the digger hooked up on something on her rig. But then the screeching suddenly stopped and she felt a harsh pull, something being ripped away from the rig. But the digger exploded the last of Buzzards. Now there was only War Party on her head. Joy.

And then, giant, deadly sandstorm before them. Even more joy.

“Nux! Slit!” Furiosa yelled as loud as she only hurt, so loud that her throat throbbed. “Into the cab! Now!” and they obeyed, in mere seconds, both of them, back door opening and closing as they jumped onto back seat. She grabbed googles from under her sear and threw them back, covering her face with piece of cloth and her own googles.

“Mom, why are they attacking us?” Nux asked, anxious, as bullet ricocheted of the car frame. “What have you done?”

Silence was his only answer as they speed up towards the storm.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me it it's okay and if I should continue it :>  
> Also behold, because I hate bad endings. Bad endings, shoo! And all that shitty angst. Only fluff accepted.
> 
> Aaaand I'm looking for a beta. Please?


End file.
